Millennium hand and shrimp!
I am not in the happiest frame of mind. Once again I am spending a weekend stuffed up with hay fever. It’s not much fun and doesn’t make me feel like doing much. In saying that we have been out this morning to have coffee at Bambino Cafe and enjoy their selection of mags. T has taken Polly dog for a walk to give me the space to write.. not that I felt like doing this either but I haven’t blogged for three days now and must not get out of the habit.
I have been doing all sorts of crafty stuff this week, in the main I have been playing around with tee shirts. I do not suit high neck tee shirts and so, inspired by several clever women on the web, I took scissors in hand and whacked into the necklines. This took a surprising amount of bravery but once I had assured myself several times that said tee shirts were from charity shops and could easily be replaced if ruined, I set to.
Not liking the raw edges I have added new edges/collars with ribbon, ripped up silk scarves and scavenged linen from a pair of worn out trousers. It’s fun experimenting and so far successful. I still have a few to do yet though.. As you will be able to tell from the photos, I am from the rip, shit or bust school of sewing. Although they don’t look so good in the pics they do look good on. Or I think they do anyway…
Back in the dim, dark ages, when I was a little girl, dental nurses cared for the teeth of young children. Each school had a dental clinic building (called the murder house by ourselves) and every year, usually your birthday month, a child would arrive at the door of the classroom holding a large card with your name on it and you would be sent off with it clutched in your reluctant little hand for an appointment.
In those days the powers that be didn’t believe in wasting money on high-speed drills for children, so we had to suffer the excruciatingly slow speed drills that seemed to go on and on and on for ever.
Visits to the dental clinic were a nightmare for me and I lived in dread of the day when the card appeared at the door. I was about eight when I got all the way to the murder house door, card in hand , the dread got to much and I dropped the card and ran all the way home.
This was one of those early and major lessons in life – some things you just can’t avoid. My Mother put me in the car, took me back to the clinic, where I received three fillings and had a tooth extracted.
Nowadays I’m still completely freaked out by visits to the dentist. Even when I know that nothing particularly painful is going to happen, I still have to work very hard not to drop my card and run. Today I visited my very kind dentist, Mr Wong, who is a lovely man and who promptly rescued my tooth from its old coating of concrete glue and stuck it firmly back in its rightful place. There was no pain, just a little discomfit – but the smell of the place and the sounds and the way I pushed myself back against that chair as if it I could escape into it. I fairly staggered out of there, exhausted with the tension I had put myself through.
But hey – I have a lovely, clean tooth back in place and I no longer look like the wicked witch of the west.
And I am a grown up – I had a choice, there’s lots of good things about being a grown up…
I’ve had a lovely day. It started off well when I found that the healthy eating effort was paying off weight wise as well as helping me to feel better. On top of that it was a true summers day, really warm and calm.
I am feeling a box of fluffys after the cold and even got some more gardening done. I gave that up when the sun got too high and we set up a makeshift bower out of an old canvas sail and some sofa throws. We dragged a old armchair in and while T disported himself on blanket and cushions I read him the first part of Terry Pratchett’s The Truth.
And then my front tooth fell out…really..
I was biting into a nectarine and felt a little clink in my mouth and that was it.
And I just look so beautiful now – honestly! I just needed that to happen to put the cherry on the top of my gorgeousness. I have had my front tooth glued to the tooth next to it for nine years now so I can’t say I didn’t get my moneys worth. But still… Dental visit now, wahoo. 😉
This is the process that I have gone through today to write this post.
- Go to study to write post.
- Realise laptop is in lounge so fetch it.
- Check email and read Katyboo1’s blog post describing her driving test, squawk with laughter. Reflect on the grumpy, silent test examiners that accompanied me on my four attempts. Suppose everything must happen for a reason?
- Have to make coffee before I start to write
- Make coffee then decide to fetch mail on the off chance that someone wants to send me lots of money. They don’t…
- Notice lots of deadheads on geraniums in front garden. Start to pull them off.
- Notice lots of long grass at edge of border of geraniums. Start to pull them out – gently now as I am still crippled from Thursdays gardening frenzy.
- Stop both jobs at half way because I am meant to be writing blog post and coffee is getting cold.
- Go inside.
- Fetch coffee to study
- Realise I need to take some photos for blog – go to fetch camera
- Realise camera battery is flat, locate camera cord and battery charging thingummy. Set to charge.
- Eat a nectarine.
- Back in study, hit icon for new post.
- Realise that there are to many flys in the room and that they will drive me crazy if I don’t murder them.
- Fetch fly spray. Cover coffee, spray air with poison and then sit amongst great clouds of it to write post.
- Start post
- Realise it’s crap and delete entirety.
- Realise whatever I am going to write will be crap because my head is stuffed with cold virus and I feel like crap and it made me miss the Merry Wives of Windsor last night.
- Start post again.
- Make about a million spelling/grammar mistakes as usual.
- Wonder what it’s all about. The point of anything…then perk up because I notice it’s lunch time..
So, yesterday was gardening. It needed it and I have put it off for far to long now, hoping it would go away, which it hasn’t, of course. So nothing for it but to get stuck in – and I’m bloody glad I did cos it looks sooo good. I am saying I, but really I had the help of the trusty Mr T, who normally runs a very long mile before volunteering to weed anything. Consequently way more work got done than would normally have and quicker. It was also very pleasant to have company.
The only down side is that I have woken today with just a tad of stiffness, having over doing it of course. And I am going to go out and do it again today, which probably won’t help.
I am celebrating today for my friend Katy over at Katyboo1’s Weblog. She has finally passed her driving test. She has been entertaining all of us faithful readers for some time now with tales of her attempts to learn to drive – just about all disastrous and ending in tears, so I was really pleased to read her blog this morning and find out she had passed – Yay!!
I have had flashbacks of the FOUR TIMES I sat my practical driving test in the UK and FAILED. I was not used to failure and it seemed to me that after every test sitting I got worse. I finally passed when I came back to NZ and sat the test in the good old Wairarapa – nice broad streets, very relaxed examiner, about a million less drivers on the Masterton streets which is a town small enough to have no traffic lights. How could I not have passed, especially after driving in the madness of the UK roads? And also having driven illegally without a single accident or incident for the preceding twenty years?
First off – Happy Lammas! The festival of first fruits – all those ffffffffffs..
The 2nd of February marks Lammas/Lughnasadh which is the first of the harvest celebrations but like another important day on the wheel of the year (Sowein/Halloween) it also happens to be the birthday of someone close to me. Sometimes I get swept up in one and need to mark the other another day.
Image by Wendy Andrew
Instead of seeing the rug being pulled out from under us, we can learn to dance on a shifting carpet. Thomas Crum
Bloody Hell it’s good being home again. I don’t realise how much I love my own space until I go away – even for one night.
The journey down to Wellington on the train was trouble-free – mainly thanks to my trusty Sony mp3 player, it saves me oodles of grief. Usually the trip is pretty quiet but this time I was trapped in the same carriage with a woman who, if I’m going to be kind about it, liked the sound of her own voice and several shriekey teenage girls in school uniform. Not feeling obliged to listen to others noise I simply plugged myself in and grooved away to the dulcet tones of the BeeGees in full disco flow. I then sat comfortably by myself the entire journey – occasionally wondering how the Brothers Gibb could have thought that singing falsetto would ever be considered manly – even if you do have lots of body hair, medallions and tight, tight trousers. With my mp3 player on random I got to listen to 60’s band Cream and am now a fan.
My Mum enjoyed her trip out for dinner at the Parrot and Jigger for her birthday. My brother, sister-in-law and one of my nephews came along as well and it was good to be able to have a family celebration without the usual mass of dishes to clean up after. My brother had to finish packing to leave at 5.30am to guard the Prime Minister at Waitangi so we had an early night.
It looks like the weather has finally decided it will be summer for awhile. We are going to see Shakespeare’s Merry Wives of Windsor at Gladstone Vineyard on Friday evening so will be taking a sun hat.